The SEAL Story II
by Jonathan
Summary: A SEAL team from C&C Red Alert 2 fights the Soviet Union, on it's last stand.
1. The Unknown Expanse

The SEAL Story II  
-Jonathan  
  
(Personal note, this is the continuation of my story that won 2nd place. If you didn't see it, go to the Red Alert 2 Fan Fiction site, and look for The SEAL Story. All places described on Eglin AFB are real, to my current knowledge.)  
  
America has finally beaten the Soviet Union out of it's sacred land. The citizens controlled by hideous psychic beacons have finally returned to normal. No more will Soviet forces oppress our freedom...  
  
Chapter 1, The Unknown Expanse  
  
After returning from Pearl Harbor, I've been relaxing back in my hometown, finally liberated from the Russians. It feels good to sit on the beach, and watch the sun set over our free country. Observing the stars, with the infinite expanse of the Universe, I notice that our wars, squabbles, and petty bickering mean nothing to anything in this realm we live in. The Earth will still revolve, with or without us. Day and night will come and go, like the perpetual cycle of life itself. Lying in the water, I see nothing but a clear, star filled sky. One lone arm of the galaxy reminds me of a long veil stretched across the vast expanse, stretching from each horizon.   
  
The phone rings loudly. I get up, and rush inside to answer the infernal machine. "Hello?" I ask. "Am I interrupting anything, Mr. Holmes?", the CO of our SEAL team wonders. "No sir." I say. "I need to see you tommorow, at 10 hundred hours sharp." He states. "Yes sir, I'll be there." I say, pondering his request. "May I ask why you need me?" I say. "I'll tell you tommorow. Just get some rest, I can tell you that much. Meet me at the airstrip." He says. "Yes sir, I'll see you tommorow, goodbye." I tell him, right before hanging up the phone. I walk back outside, and watch the waves flow gently on the shore for a while. I think about what he could want. Walking back inside, I get ready for tommorow.  
  
Sleeping peacefully, dreaming of the future, the *amn alarm wakes me up. I move the sheets off of me, getting out of bed. "Arrgh, I hate waking up this early..." I say to myself, sounding groggy. I get showered, and dress myself for the upcoming meeting. The air outside is fresh, and smells of the sea. I enter my car, and back down the driveway, out towards Eglin Air Force Base. As I approach the West Gate, I salute the Airmen guarding the Gate. They raise the striped barrier, letting me through. The road winds past the tiny Shopette, and the self sale lot. I stop for a red light, right across from the Guided Missile Labratory. The light turns green, I speed up, passing the GML, and the JDAM building. I follow the road, making a left on the tarmac. The CO is there, watching the pair of fighters mock dogfighting in the sky. "Sir?" I ask. "Holmes, I need you for a new mission. Follow me." He states quietly. I walk with him into the main hangar, watching the dogfight progress above me.  
  
The CO hands me a paper outlining our mission objectives. "You've been assigned to make a CSAR (Combat Search And Rescue) for two downed Harrier pilots. They went down over a Russian base in Mexico, shortly after we lost radio contact with them." He says. "I'll see..." I state quietly, reading over the mission objectives. "I'll see about moving out immediately, sir." I say to him, still looking at the paper. "Excellent. I want your team ready by morning." He says. "Yes sir, I will be ready tommorow." I say to him. "Alright, you're dismissed. Get yourself ready. That is all." He says to me, with an air of authority. "Yes sir!" I say to him, turning around towards my car, I get in, and drive back out on the main highway. Watching for the traffic, I drive to the base barracks. I get out, walking towards the complex of rooms. I find the block of three rooms that my team uses, and I knock on them all, getting the men up... After a few curse words directed at me, they all get up, fully dressed.  
  
I start to brief them on what we are going to do. "Alright, we have a situation on our hands. About a week ago, two of our Harrier pilots went down on a strike mission over Mexico. We've been assigned to go in, and get them both out, assuming that one or both are still alive. If we manage to find the pilots, we are to escort them to the extraction point. Any questions?" I ask bluntly to the men. No one answers me. "I'll take that as no. Ok, now I need you to get some rest tonight. We have a long day ahead of us tommorow. I'll contact you then." Smith, Davis, and Merck nod at me, and return to their rooms.  
  
I exit the base, driving down past the bridge over the bay. I look to my right, seeing a barge laden with rocks headed towards the highway expansion. I glance up, seeing a passenger jet creating a contrail across the afternoon sky, passing on front of a whispy cirrus cloud. "I wonder about the people on that plane, how different our lives are, what they've been through, their friends and family, and how they don't even know, or see this man down here pondering about their lives..." I say to myself, amazed at how large this world really is. I turn back on my road, driving back to my house. I roll up to the driveway, and get out of my car. I walk back inside, and sit in the back, watching the sea flow on the shore... 


	2. Perpetual Futility

Chapter 2, Perpetual Futility  
  
The next morning, I call Davis, asking him to gather the team, and meet me and the CO at the airstrip. I get back in my car, driving out towards Eglin again. As usual, I salute the Airmen guarding the West Gate, as they raise the striped barrier. I drive up to the bend, taking a left at the taxiway that crosses the road. Seeing the group there, I get out of my car, and approach them. "Morning, everyone." I say quietly. "Morning, Holmes." Says Davis. The CO pulls out a few blurred photographs, and one clear one. "Gentlemen, these are recon photos of where you are to insert." He points to the clear one. "This compound is where we believe them to be held. You will insert approximately two miles from shore, and use your RIB to make it to land. From there, you have three waypoints that you need to make it to, most are avoiding Soviet patrols that have been strengthened due to the presence of the airmen. After infiltrating the compound, be sure to eliminate any tangos that you encounter on the way out. Is this clear?" He asks. "Yes, sir!" We answer. "Now, get yourselves ready. You're leaving in a few hours. I want your team good to go by then." He states bluntly. "Aye, sir. I'll have them ready." I say to him. The CO walks off, leaving us to operate on our own terms..  
  
I start shouting orders at the men, as they suit up for the upcoming mission. "Alright guys, I need you to be good to go in 10 minutes. Remember, time is essential for this operation to be a success." I gather my gear, watching a big C-130 Hercules transport aircraft being towed across the main road. I run in front of it, watching my men follow behind shortly afterwards. The transport continues to move across the road, blocking any traffic that may wish to move. I commandeer a small vehicle used to move across the tarmac, and the team loads into it. Driving this vehicle across the concrete, I watch out for ground movement. A few minutes later, we arrive at the loading area assigned for our team, finding the C-130 following slowly behind us. As it gets towed to the stop point, the cargo door in the rear of the aircraft opens downward, allowing us to load it up with the supplies critical to this mission. After the team loads the RIB, and the other survival equpiment, we enter the aircraft, closing the cargo door behind us.  
  
The pilot starts the engines. I feel a rumble in the plane, and it starts forward with a jolt. The aircraft moves down a taxiway, headed towards the runway. I shift my position in the cargo area, moving around to find a better place to sit. While I am working on that, the aircraft turns, and begins to power up. It starts rolling down the runway, gaining speed, finally lifting off into the air with a rush. I hear the pilot speaking to air traffic control, getting advised on where to navigate. "Double check to make sure your gear is properly stowed, I don't want it flying off when you jump." I say to them, making sure that we're prepared to take on the Soviets. "Sir, I need an extra block of plastic explosives." Says Davis, worriedly. "Now what do you need that for, Steve?" I ask. "I'm going to prepare a little extra something for our extraction, if you don't mind" He smiles evily at me. "Alright, take one of mine." I hand him a block of explosive. "Ahem." He motions for something else. "What? Oh... OH! Whoops, I forgot to get the detonator..." I laugh to myself, bringing the radio detonator out of my side pocket. I toss it to him. "There ya go, don't lose it now." I sit back down. Leaning forward, I look to the front of the aircraft, watching the clouds pass...  
  
The hours pass, finally reaching our destination. We circle around the drop zone for a few minutes. The men grab their equipment, getting suited up for the drop. Once again, I open the cargo door, feeling the extreme cold through my suit. After I get all of my gear on, I help Davis and Merck push the boat out of the aircraft. One by one, they jump after it, until finally, I jump off as well. The Hercules flies onward, back towards the base. I feel the wind from the free fall, whipping past my face, making me colder than normal. I watch the GPS that I have with me, making sure that we are flying in the correct direction. Looking at the altimiter on my wrist, I pull the rip cord. A huge rush accompanies the parachute opening, with an immense force pulling on my groin. I wince in pain, knowing that it's almost over. I can see the RIB down below me, bobbing in the calm ocean. The men are already in it, awaiting my arrival. Falling downward, I splash into the cold Gulf water. I struggle with the parachute, finally getting it off. They help me climb into the boat. Merck starts the outboard, and we speed off towards the Soviet base...  
  
Another hour passes, as nighttime starts to fall. We see a few Russian guards patrolling the coast, not really looking for anything in particular. Merck steers it to a cliff, where we can hide for a few minutes. He beaches the RIB on the shore, and we all climb out, watchful for any Soviet forces that may appear. They load their MP-5Ks, and follow me. Ever so carefully, I lead them to the top of the cliff, where a wooded area shields our approach to the base. Crawling through the brush, I take out my nightvision goggles, and scan the base. One... Five... Fifteen. *hit. We're going to have one hell of a time getting in. I signal back to the men that there are fifteen shooters. I raise my MP-5, and scan once more. They move up behind me, getting ready for the rush. The few guards near the shore have their backs turned to us. I motion for Smith to take them down. He raises his gun, and puts a bullet into both of their heads, making them explode like a watermelon. One guard moves in front of us, looking our way. He continues walking along the base fence, now exposed in a searchlight. After he moves a good distance away, we run out of the brush, moving up to the fence, in a dark area. Davis cuts the chain-link fence apart, allowing us to move in. I fit myself through the small hole, scanning for any tangos that may be around this area. The entrance to the compound should be near. A large rumble comes from the distance, like a diesel truck. I look right, seeing a supply truck moving past the base checkpoint. It rumbles past us slowly. It gets into a dark area. I motion for them to follow me. We run up to the supply truck, and roll inside, making sure that we make little noise in the process...  
  
The truck runs into the prison complex inside the base, stopping for a while. I look out for a second, making sure that it is clear to move. Rolling out of the truck, we eliminate a few guards patrolling outside the fence. As the truck moves into the compound, I shoot both sentries standing watch at the prison gate. I signal to run in, checking all of the prison cells. One checked... Nothing. I move towards the second cell... Nothing. Moving towards the third, a Russian soldier walks around the corner, right in front of me. He pulls out his weapon. Smith charges him, and stabs his knife right in that tangos left eye, pushing it into his brain. The soldier falls over, with a wide trail of blood flowing from his mutiliated eye. "Thank you, Harry. You saved my life..." I exclaim. "Nah, don't think nothing of it, you big sonofa*itch" He says, laughing. "Lets move out" I say. I walk carefully around the corner, seeing another cell block there. Searching through the windows again, I see nothing still. Moving onward to the next cell, I spot a man in an olive flight suit sleeping on the floor. "Davis, get over here." I say to him. "I need you to pick that lock for me, the pilot is in there. He should know where they took his wingman." He nods at me, and starts working on the lock. "*amn thing..." A few minutes pass, few swearing remarks directed at me, and he finally gets it loose. "Got it!" He exclaims over his breath...  
  
I walk in to the cell, waking up the pilot. He gets up slowly. "Wha... Who are you?" He asks. "We're here to get you out. That's all you need to know for now. Get up, you're going with us. I have orders to take you for extraction. Where is your wingman?" I ask him. "They shot him, I know because I heard them laughing about it yesterday." He says, sounding very tired. "I see. Well, I have to get you out. Lets go." I state bluntly to him. He follows me outside. "Davis, do you see those fuel tanks over there? I want you to plant your explosives on them." I say to him. "On the way." He says, smiling evily. I watch him run over to the tanks carefully, wary of Soviet guards. He plants the explosives on the tanks, running back quickly. "Alright, I got them right fixed good. They're gonna have some fun tonight..." He says with an air of arrogance. "Lets move out. Get that fence open, Davis." I say to him. "Yes sir, I'm right on it." Davis runs to the fence edge a few feet from us, and cuts it open carefully. He beckons for us to move through the hole he just made. I get through first, moving the airman with me next. After we all get through the fence, we start running towards the woods across the way. I put my nightvision on again, and spot the area where we inserted from. Moving my hands, I beckon for them to run with me. I start firing at the men in the guard tower as I run. "Davis, NOW!" I yell at him. He nods, pulls out his radio detonator, and presses the button on it. A huge explosion rocks the prison complex. Looking back, I see that the cell blocks were destroyed in the process. "Move it!" I yell again. Running towards the cliff, I run towards the trail that leads downward to the RIB. Russian soldiers begin running to the site of the explosion, oblivious to our presence. I hop in the boat, joining everyone else. Merck starts the engine, pulling us out of the shallow water, and into the Gulf of Mexico...  
  
"Delta two four, awaiting extraction. Bait has been set and hooked. Extraction confirmed." I say into the radio. "Rodger that tango four, moving on your position. ETA 15 minutes. Stand by for extraction." I hear, waiting for our ride out. Soon afterwards, a Nighthawk transport helicopter appears over the horizon. "Merck! Hit the flare!" I say to him. "Yes sir! On the way..." He pulls out the flare gun, and shoots one into the sky. I watch the tiny ball of fire streak into the night, towards the Universe itself... The Nighthawk hovers slowly over us, and drops a line for my men to get out of here. One by one, they all get hauled into the massive helicopter, until finally, I get inside as well. I can hear the pilot speaking to the air base, confirming our extraction. The hours pass slowly, with the airman telling his horror stories of being captured by the Soviets. I don't even listen to him. I just watch the unknown expanse, understanding that the Universe will never acknowledge our fighting, in our perpetual futility...  



End file.
